Throughout the decades, teenagers have attempted to prove their coolness by wearing questionable accessories, hairstyles and items of clothing. Hindsight Fashion is a section about those trends that, in Hindsight, we probably wish we hadn’t worn.
This week’s Hindsight Fashion is: White Jeans.
This week’s HF pains me to write a little bit. This is largely due to the fact that I have a secret love affair with White Jeans. Really. I love them. Whenever I open the pages of a new spring issue of Vogue and see Gisele Bundchen or some other tall, thin, Brazilian beauty wearing a pair of white jeans, perhaps with a crisp blue dress shirt tucked in and a straw fedora, my heart skips a beat. I love that look. That clean, preppy, nautical, wealthy look. That “I just showered and threw these on” kind of look. Easy, breezy, carefree. And every time I’ve purchased a pair of White Jeans, I’ve been swindled by that myth. The, “White Jeans Are Easy” myth.
My very first experience with white jeans was with a pair of white overalls that I wore in Grade 6. That’s right. White overalls. And I wore them with one strap hanging down. I thought they were pretty rockin’. That was until I was outside eating lunch and a lady bug landed on the thigh. I had done my best up to that point to avoid spills, stains and crumbs. I watched the ladybug as it crawled up my white denim leg. It was so pretty. Such a cute little bug. The warm, summer breeze was blowing in my hair and I was thinking about how wonderful it was to commune with nature in such an intimate way. And then the ladybug peed on my leg. I didn’t even know that ladybugs peed. But apparently, they do. And, no matter how hard I had tried to keep those overalls clean, they wound up stained with ladybug pee in the first 24 hours.
At 13, my Mother convinced me to try another foray into the world of white denim. This time it was a pair of white flared jeans with a little swervy pattern embroidered on the pocket. She convinced me that they looked so nice that I had to buy them and that I shouldn’t worry so much about getting them dirty. After all, White Jeans are supposed to be easy! So we bought them. I wore them to school the next day. And I spent the entire day filled with paranoia, closely examining every chair, every beverage and every passing insect for potential denim stains. I basically stood frozen all day, waiting for some YM Magazine worthy moment in which I would be lethally embarrassed and ridiculed by my peers. I never wore the jeans again.
Now, being the Mother of a (very) busy toddler, I spend my days crawling around in the dirt and dodging handfuls of flying sand. Any white items of clothing I own immediately wind up covered in a thin film of blueberry jam, yoghurt and goldfish crumbs. I have officially had to lay my White Jean dream to rest in favour of items with a longer shelf life. Sometimes I still find myself fantasizing of the day that I can throw on my white jeans and hit up the family yacht off the coast of southern France. But then I think of that sweet little ladybug and am reminded of the fact that the only easy way to wear White Jeans is not to wear them at all.